


It's All Coming To Me

by dedougal



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Porn, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 04:47:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2719268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedougal/pseuds/dedougal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler's used to getting on well with his tops. He just doesn't normally get on this well with them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's All Coming To Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shinyslasher](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinyslasher/gifts).



> This is a very belated birthday present for shinyslasher, who deserves all the best things. I don't know much about the whole world of porn so this is very hand-wavy, fantasy. Also, sorry for the cheesy title.

Tyler’s just hanging around with Marchy, one of his favorite tops, and Brownie, who’s like his bro and his platonic mostly straight soul mate, and he’s almost ready to start getting fucked. Being in porn is totally more work that he’d ever thought it would be, with all the plucking and prep and stuff.

Tyler doesn’t try to exactly define what he qualifies as. He’s not exactly a full time professional porn actor. He gives up a weekend, a week every couple of months to make a couple of movies and do some photos and, in return, he gets what he thinks of as pocket money. It’s definitely better than working at some coffee chain or waiting tables like most of the rest of his buddies. And he can schedule it around gigs. They even like it when he brings his guitar in for some extra practice.

On the other hand, he is not a fucking amateur. Heh. _Fucking_ amateur. Nope. He is proud of his skills. He’s always known how to put on a show; how to make his partner feel like he’s having the time of his life (even when it was closeted frat boys and he’d snuck into college parties and they didn’t even know how to cover their teeth or whatever). Porn’s just like that, with more positions.  
Once he got drunk and told Brownie all this before he fell over trying to stand up and face-planted into the tray of shots on the table. So he keeps the philosophizing to himself. Now. Mostly.

“Tyler, this is the Stallion.” Tyler’s not sure if there are sarcastic air quote things around the nickname but he shakes the hand of the guy who’s standing half behind Dills and tries to be sly about eyeing him up. The Stallion is definitely a good name for him – the guy is solid, just the way Tyler likes. He’s got muscles and tats and he quirks out the shyest little smile.

“Tyler. Hey. Which you already knew.” Tyler’s not sure why he seems to be all tongue tied, especially with the way that the Stallion is blushing, high on his cheeks. There’s something about him that makes Tyler want to set him at ease. “Guess I’ll be riding you later.”

Everyone in hearing groans while Tyler cracks up, bending over to hold himself up by his knees when it all gets a bit much. He knows he’s still grinning ridiculously when he looks up to meet the Stallion’s dark (and interested, if he’s any judge of character) gaze.

“Jamie.” His voice is lighter than Tyler had been expecting. “My name’s Jamie.”

There’s a cough from behind them and Tyler realizes he’s basically been staring at Jamie and not doing much else. His giggle escapes, nearly without him realizing it, and Jamie smiles again, quick and genuine, before he sticks his hands in the pockets of his basketball shorts and wanders off to the set.

Marchy is shaking his head sadly when Tyler wanders back over. “The Stallion? Really? I thought shitty nicknames went out in the 80s.”

“Retro revival.” Brownie sounds too knowledgeable and serious and Tyler has to jump on his back to mess with his hair. “Fuck off. Have you never seen his vids? They’re like - okay. So. He didn’t exactly come out of nowhere but he was like background, background, and superstar. Bam!” Brownie illustrates his whole explanation by slamming his fist on the snack table. It makes the chips jump kinda disturbingly.

“Superstar, huh?” Tyler leans over enough to see Jamie chatting with Dills again, gesturing as if he’s planning out what they’re going to do. Tyler appreciates that. Suggest Jamie knows what he’s doing and that he’ll help make Tyler look good. Better. The best. It’s not like Tyler needs help looking good.

Marchy laughs at him enough that Tyler feels justified in raising not just one middle finger but both. He’d get into it but Jamie’s looking at him and Tyler guesses it’s probably time to get this whole show on the road. For him to shake his moneymaker. Or get it ploughed.

“Tyler’s pretty controlled so you don’t have to worry about holding back too much.” Dills doesn’t usually hand out praise like that so Tyler slaps him on the shoulder. “Jamie’s only got a couple of days and we want to get a couple of videos ready. Gonna be a quick turnaround.”

It’s shit like that which stops porn being all sexy and makes it like a proper job. Tyler grumbles something like that as he pulls off his shirt and pops the button on his shorts. Jamie laughs, a little wild and uncontrolled, and Tyler decides he likes that too. It’s always easier when he can like his partner.

“We’ll get you to do the getting to know you later,” Dills tells them. “We’ve got Jonny and Pat scheduled to use this set.”

“And Kaner’s a fucking primadonna. Gotcha.” Tyler makes sure his flip-flops are out of the camera’s line of sight and lies back on the bed. “Come and get it, Stallion.”

“Just Jamie, okay?” Tyler forces his giggle down. He thinks he could quite enjoy teasing Jamie, especially as he doesn’t look too upset as he comes to stand on his mark at the end of the bed. “And tell me if there’s anything you’re not okay with.”

Tyler nods. He’s done enough of these to trust the guys but he gets why Jamie’s saying it. “You too, right?”

Then Dills stops whatever fussing he was doing, steps behind the camera and a voice calls action. Tyler’s watching Jamie as it happens and it’s like a switch being flicked. Jamie shifts from this kinda shy guy to having a laser focus on Tyler. It’s like a jolt of electricity to his dick and Tyler goes all the way hard in an instant. He realizes why Jamie perhaps warned him to say if anything was too much because Jamie looks like he might consume Tyler entirely. 

Tyler’s also pretty into it. He hopes to fuck Jamie’s dick is as solid as the rest of him.

Jamie just stands there, looking Tyler up and down, for a long moment, drawing it out until Tyler’s about ready to start begging. He somehow always ends up begging - normally for permission to come - but here he’s about to start by just pleading for Jamie to touch him. Tyler has another realization, then. He has no idea what the plan is beyond him getting fucked good and proper.

“Get up here.” Jamie’s voice contains this new note of command and Tyler’s glad the camera won’t be looking at his face as he scrabbles to his hands and knees, crawling over the sheets towards Jamie. He’s not expecting Jamie to take hold of his shoulders and guide him until he’s upright, the rough cotton of Jamie’s shirt chafing against his bare skin.

Jamie kisses him, intent and messy, tongue fucking in almost immediately. Tyler’s happy enough for that to happen, too. Pretty damn happy about pretty much everything beyond the fact that Jamie’s still too fucking clothed. They wrestle for a moment but Tyler gets Jamie’s shirt off quickly and then his shorts are falling around his knees and hands - big hands, long fingers and Tyler cannot wait to get them inside him - are on his bare ass, rubbing and stroking.

“Let me suck you,” Tyler demands, when Jamie pulls back to breathe. “I’ll make it good.”

“Yeah,” Jamie agrees. They readjust and, from behind them, Tyler can hear the crew shifting around. He’s glad they’re keeping it quiet. This scene is getting damn intense damn quickly. It’s not like when he’s playing around with Marchy, all sloppy kisses and familiarity. The newness here is a little dangerous and definitely thrilling.

Tyler runs his hands over Jamie’s chest, enjoying how smooth it is, while Jamie just slides his basketball shorts over his hips. There’s a little bit of hair surrounding the base of Jamie’s cock but it’s neat and trimmed enough that when - not if - Tyler manages to work all of it into his throat, it’s going to taste so good.

For some reason, Jamie works his hand into Tyler’s close cropped curls and holds him still for a moment, staring down at him. Tyler’s not quite sure how to read the look he’s receiving. It’s dark and turned on, sure, but there’s that weird softness again, a smile that’s not a cocky smirk or a grin or anything else Tyler associates with what he usually gets from his partners - on film or not.

Jamie guides him forward. Or, anyway, lets Tyler lean forward. There’s definitely no hesitation on either of their parts. Tyler knows he’s got to make this look good for the camera but he wants to make it good for Jamie too. He can hear the soft mutterings of the camera crew, the sound, catching each shift of Jamie’s hips, each lick of Tyler’s tongue, bob of his Adam’s apple and each sloppy swallow and groan.

Tyler starts slow, suckling the head, letting his hand drift down to tease at Jamie’s balls. But he’s after more. He takes Jamie deeper; pressing at his jaw with the hand furthest from the camera to make it relax, open wider. It works. Jamie lets out a huge, juddering, bone-shaking sigh as the head of his cock slips into Tyler’s throat. His lack of a gag reflex is damn helpful, sure, but Tyler has a moment of thinking that maybe he’s just made for Jamie’s cock. He seals his lips around the base of Jamie’s cock and sucks with solid pressure all the way as he pulls back.

His voice is rough when he pulls off. “Gonna fuck my throat, man?”

“Yeah?” Jamie’s hand is gentle as he tilts Tyler’s face up, bends to kiss him. “Fuck your throat and then your ass?”

Now Tyler’s the one shuddering. Jamie straightens, holds his cock and paints Tyler’s lips with the tip. It’s cheesy and a little stereotypical and the usual kind of thing Tyler does. But, and here’s this weird trail of a half-unformed thought again, he thinks it’s like Jamie’s marking him up, leaving some kind of message that Tyler’s his now and Tyler’s strangely into it. So he lets Jamie do it.

He’d let Jamie do all kinds of things to him, he thinks. Tyler’s always been easy going, happy to make friends, definitely a fan of fucking. But he’s starting to wonder about feelings here, feelings that he’d always kinda swallowed down before. Much as he liked the buds he worked with, he’d never felt that rush of pure, undeniable attraction before. Tyler fights the whole idea down, hopes it doesn’t show on his face and opens his mouth wide for Jamie to fuck into it. His cock did taste as good as Tyler had hoped it would. 

Tyler made sure to look up at Jamie through his eyelashes as he relaxes his throat and takes Jamie’s thrusts. Jamie’s cheeks flush, adorably, and his hair has spilled out of its neat, gelled state and it’s sticking to Jamie’s temples. The sight of how into this Jamie is seemed to create a weird cycle of reaction in Tyler. Even though no one was near his cock, it twitches.

Jamie thrusts harder than before and Tyler wasn’t quite ready for it. He chokes a little, and Jamie immediately pulls out, hands cupping Tyler’s face.

“Hey, why’re you stopping?” Tyler’s voice is a little rough and he coughs again to clear the worst of the rasp.

Jamie kisses him, gentle like, little brushes of lips rather than full on tongue-fucking. Tyler’s not too sure what to make of that.

“You okay?” Jamie asks, when he pulls back. It’s so out of place in the middle of a porn shoot. On the other hand, Tyler knows that the clientele kinda likes the smooshy stuff - they eat up Jonny and Pat’s whole boyfriend shtick with a spoon. Maybe it’s all part of Jamie’s persona.

“I’m good. Except…” Tyler lets it trail off but feels unexpectedly sorry for teasing when Jamie looks worried. “I kinda need a cock inside me.”

Jamie stares at him in disbelief before he starts to laugh. It’s such a natural, unstaged giggle that Tyler has to respond in kind. He hauls Jamie into another kiss and they end up sprawled across the bed, groping at each other.

Dills lets out a soft cough and Tyler knows he has to get this show on the road again. “C’mon. Give it me, big boy.”

Jamie’s still shaking his head in mock regret as he slicks up his fingers and presses in. Tyler’s still loose from when he prepped earlier but Jamie has nice, long fingers and he knows what he’s doing with them and everything is very very good in Tyler’s world. Jamie lets one of his fingers catch on the rim and Tyler shivers all over. He’s gotten used to being loud and proud when something works for him but it still takes a moment to let out the groan, to remember he’s performing and this isn’t just about him and Jamie. He’s more turned on than he usually is, about to open his mouth and beg and beg. This would probably go down well with their audience but the fact he’s about to come from giving a blow job and a bit of fingering probably wouldn’t.

He’s grateful when Jamie doesn’t draw it out too much, just making sure Tyler is ready to take his dick. Tyler can already feel the tight, warm glow that he associates with really good sex and he gives in to it as Jamie pushes in, arching his back in pleasure. He’s only partially doing it to put on a good show – he really does love getting fucked, especially by a dick as nice as Jamie’s. It’s thick and solid and feels so satisfying sliding into him.

Tyler’s not entirely sure but he thinks Jamie manages to get balls deep in him before it all becomes a little bit too good. That warm, satisfied feeling seems to rush up all at once and Tyler’s coming before he’s almost aware, the splatter of warm come on his belly and his chest and, he thinks, perhaps, his chin as much of a surprise to him as it is to Jamie and the crew behind the cameras and basically everyone.

“Uh,” Tyler manages to say, looking down at the evidence of his enjoyment. “Whoops.”

Jamie freezes above him and Tyler’s tempted to just tell him to go for it anyway. He can probably get hard again – he’s still pretty turned on and he’s in porn, for crying out loud – but Jamie’s already gently disengaging. Tyler can hear Dills laughing over by the door and he covers his face with his free hand.

“I’m sorry-“ Jamie starts but Tyler waves weakly at him.

“Not your problem, man.” Tyler swipes at the come – yup, some of it hit his neck – and lies back. He shouldn’t feel as good as he does – he’s probably wasted a lot of good filming time and he really was enjoying Jamie’s dick. But the guilt seems secondary to recovery and maybe a short nap right about now. “I should probably shower.”

Jamie helps him up, arm around his waist when Tyler’s legs actually start to give way. “Head rush,” Tyler says.

“Get in the shower, Segs,” Dills tells them, between his snorts. “Fuck, I don’t think you even did that your first time. Doubt we can sell this as ‘virgin’ porn, though.”

Tyler, weakly, flips him the bird.

 

Tyler knows there’s still a flush high on his cheeks when he finishes cleaning up and is lounging in a bathrobe while the guys decide what to do. He’s kinda sunk in misery a little, which is strange for him. He doesn’t tend to hold on to shit - to negativity. It’s unhealthy and he’s a pretty happy guy at the end of the day. But this is definitely bothering him.

There’s a soft cough from behind him and a bottle of Gatorade is offered over the back of the couch. Tyler looks up to see Jamie, fresh from his own shower and glowing.

“Hey, man.” Tyler shuffles up and makes room for Jamie, who settles into place. Jamie’s wearing loose basketball shorts again and Tyler wonders if they’re less of a costume and more what Jamie wears to be comfortable. “Sorry about - you know.”

Jamie ducks his head, shy all of a sudden. “Bit of a compliment though.”

Tyler takes a moment to work out that Jamie is teasing him and he laughs, finally feeling the weird tension from earlier slide away and vanish. “Fuck you.”

Jamie joins in the laughter too and Tyler’s hit with how fucking attractive Jamie is. He maybe loses a couple of minutes just letting that sink in. Tyler’s in porn, he’s in music - he sees all kinds of attractive guys all the time. But there’s just something extra about Jamie. Something genuine, perhaps? Tyler wonders if he’ll be able to hang around until he works out what it is.

Luckily, his musing is interrupted before Jamie can spot his distraction.

“Seggy! I hear you made one for the blooper reel!” Kaner is loud, crude and exactly the kind of guy Tyler likes to party with. He shoves himself up and they hug - total bro style with the whole exaggerated back slapping and everything. 

“Have you met Jamie?” He asks, when Kaner and he finish up their standard greeting. “He’s the Stallion.”

Kaner looks over Jamie while Jamie shakes his hand. It’s solemn and serious and it freaks Tyler out. He’s only seen Pat like that in quite moments around Jonny, his boyfriend. Tyler had done a scene with them, once, a while back, before they decided to go exclusive. It had been fun but kinda scary. Jonny’s intense. Although, as he comes through the door, he looks decidedly smug. He’s smirking, at any rate.

“Hello, Tyler.” And Tyler knows - just as if by magic - that the story of his misadventure has already made the rounds.

“Fuck off,” Tyler grumbles. He also realizes that since this pair were here that he’s pretty much done for the day. “You’ve got work to do.”

Kaner starts up with some weird kind of song and dance routine that Tyler tries to block out as Jonny and he head up to the prep rooms. Tyler just shakes his head and pastes a smile on for Jamie. “So, uh, that’s Pat and Jonny.”

Jamie nods, as if he’d filing the information away for later. “I’m going to grab food.”

“Cool.” There’s one of those pauses that Tyler always tries to fill but suddenly he can’t think how to.

“Do you- I know you’re probably busy. But. Would you…” Jamie trails off, before scrubbing his hands on his shorts and nodding to himself again. It’s all kinds of cute. “Come to dinner with me?”

Tyler seemed to have caught Jamie’s nodding bug, because he nods back before catching himself. “Sounds great. I’m fucking starving.”

 

Dinner ends up being pizza in Jamie’s hotel room, both of them tired out and unwilling to deal with people. Tyler’s not complaining - Jamie strips right back down to his t-shirt and those basketball shorts again, sprawling out on the bed with the pizza between them on a towel.

The longer they talk, the more Tyler knows he wants to get to know Jamie. They’ve covered families, how they got into porn, sport and are slowly sinking the last of the beers Tyler had snagged when Jamie rolls over to look Tyler straight in the face.

“You want to talk about earlier?” His expression is serious and sympathetic but not pitying.

“Not really.” Tyler covers his face with a hand but he lets Jamie peel it away. “That’s not happened to me, like, ever. Not even my first time, you know.”

“I’m not sure I believe that.” Jamie keeps hold of his hand and it’s kinda nice. Tyler never really thought of himself as the type of guy who holds hands but, as Jamie twines his fingers around Tyler’s, something settles within him. “So, what are we going to do?”

“We could practice?” Tyler swallows around the lump in his throat, suddenly aware that the speed of his heart is ticking up, pounding in his chest. He licks his lips, feeling them dry and rough and he’s only halfway smug when Jamie’s eyes flick down to follow the movement.

Obviously Tyler has sex outside of filming. He likes sex. He likes it a lot. In fact, he’d almost say it’s his specialist subject. Not even music comes close to the way sex makes him feel. But, right here and now, there’s something new. The air feels heavy against his skin as he peels his shirt off and Jamie catches his hand again.

“Slow down,” Jamie says, some of that authority from earlier seeping into his soft tones. “There’s just us here.”

And, again, Tyler’s done this before, with all kinds of guys and a few girls and he knows what he likes and he knows he’s good at making his partner feel nice and satisfied. But he suddenly can’t seem to think of any of that. He’s not worried about flexing his abs or finding the best erogenous zone to nibble. All he can think about is the way Jamie is solid and warm as he leans in to kiss Tyler. 

Tyler knows he tends to move from making out to full on nakedness quickly. Once he realized what his dick could do, he’s tended to skip quite a lot of the intermediate steps unless he has to. But Jamie makes making out seem as satisfying as a blow job, taking Tyler apart just with the press of his mouth and the gentle brushes of hands up and down Tyler’s back. He shivers when Jamie pulls back.

“Okay?” Jamie looks shy, bashful almost, at the way Tyler’s gaping at him, hands grasping onto Jamie’s shoulders to ground himself.

Tyler nods, mutely, hauling Jamie in to keep kissing, to lose track of everything else.

The press of Jamie’s hand against the front of his pants spirals him back into himself. Tyler lets out a shocked moan, almost before he can stop himself. He knows how thin hotel walls are but it doesn’t matter as Jamie efficiently peels himself out of the rest of his own clothes before turning his attention to Tyler, punctuating his efforts with the lightest brushes of his mouth.

The hot, tantalizing feel of Jamie’s breath across his cock has Tyler’s balls tightening up already. “I’m not going to last,” he warns.

“I’m going to blow you,” Jamie tells him, glancing between his dick and Tyler’s eyes, which is more endearing than it should be. “Then I’m going to open you up and fuck you back to hardness.” The brutal punch of his words are utterly at odd with the light touch tracing up and down Tyler’s thighs. It takes all Tyler has in him to nod agreement before Jamie lowers his mouth to tease at the head of Tyler’s cock.

Tyler comes the minute Jamie flicks his tongue across the head of Tyler’s cock.

“I was probably about to warn you,” Tyler mutters, as Jamie sits back on his heels, wiping his hand across his mouth. But Jamie doesn’t look pissed, so there’s that. In fact, he’s grinning.

“Time for part two,” he tells Tyler, just like Tyler might narrate what he’s doing to Marshall or something. Admittedly, Jamie ducks in for a kiss before he leans over the edge of the bed to snag lube out of his mostly packed bag. Tyler mouths at Jamie’s shoulder, feeling on edge still despite his orgasm.

“I can take it,” Tyler boasts but he’s still glad of the firm, knowledgeable touch of Jamie’s hands across his chest, fingertip light down the patterns of his tattoos. Jamie even runs his palms up Tyler’s thighs, easing them apart until Tyler feels like he’s on display. It’s different again from the cold, hard unseeing lens of the camera and it’s even different from the way he feels when he’s being fucked by any of the other guys who’ve partnered him on screen. 

Tyler’s always been a romantic – he used to go full on flowers, wining and dining and waiting until the third date if he was actually interested in more than just getting off – and he half wonders if perhaps Jamie would be interested in more than just sex if they weren’t, you know, working together. It’s an idle thought, followed by a sense of panic. Tyler knows pretty much nothing about Jamie beyond what they’d covered that evening and he’s already trying to plan their future. He chokes it all down when Jamie’s finger tips press against him, slip in. He can do this well, he knows he can.

Jamie’s starting to look like he’s coming apart at the seams by the time he’s prepped Tyler to his satisfaction. He still leans forward to kiss Tyler, gentle, persistent, fierce. He’s right, too. Tyler’s starting to get hard again. But he’s still sensitive and it makes everything more intense, near overwhelming, especially when Jamie lines up and pushes in. His dick slides in just as perfectly as it did before, shaking Tyler apart. 

He uses everything at his disposal – the rasp of the sheets against his skin, the warm width of Jamie’s shoulders, the way Jamie bites down on his lower lip in concentration – to stave off his orgasm for as long as he can. It’s still touch and go as Jamie seems to hit every one of Tyler’s nerve ending without even trying.

“Gonna come,” Tyler warns, aware enough now. 

Jamie kisses him or, at least, mouths against Tyler for a moment. “Do it, babe.”

Tyler groans – he knows it’s loud and hopes Jamie’s neighbors are understanding. At least no one has begun banging on the thin hotel walls yet – and he comes. It’s slower than before, seeming drawn out and almost so good it’s painful. Jamie follows him down, holding tight to Tyler as he shakes apart.

After, when they’re both panting side by side, Jamie rolls over and grins. “Think that’ll work?”

Tyler curves up in the bed, feeling his eyes droop close. “Too tired to think.”

Jamie chuckles at him, before shifting off the bed. Tyler knew he should move, should grab a cab back to where he’s crashing with Brownie and the guys, but his legs feel too heavy to move. He hears Jamie moving around, splashing in the bathroom, and only really moves when Jamie runs a warm washcloth over his skin, making him shiver in its wake.

“Should go.” Tyler has to speak around a massive yawn. “Shower.”

Jamie just maneuvers them until they’re both tucked under the duvet. “Leave it until morning,” he tells Tyler and that’s the last thing Tyler remembers.

 

Tyler’s warm when he wakes up. He’s warm and he’s comfortable and he’s wrapped up in arms that he takes a long moment to remember are Jamie’s. Even then he doesn’t wriggle away but stays, drifting in and out of a light doze.

Someone walks down the hallway talking and then the phone in the room starts ringing. 

“’Lo,” Jamie answers, scrubbing a hand over his face. He’d pulled on boxers to sleep in but Tyler’s not disappointed. There’s still a whole lot of skin for him to look at and admire. “Shit. Sorry. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

That’s when Tyler catches sight of the clock. He knows his employers are fairly laidback about all kinds of shit but fucking up on schedules fucks over everyone. And he’s late. They’re late. 

Tyler slides out of the bed as Jamie hangs up. “Shower or go?”

“Shower.” Jamie runs his hands though his hair, grimacing at the feel. “They’re filming a few interviews first so we’ve got time.” 

Tyler goes first, soaping up as efficiently as he knows how. He’ll get another shower later but this one helps him wake up all the way. Jamie’s still in the shower when Tyler realizes he has a problem. He can wear his jeans and sneak a pair of Jamie’s underwear but his shirt is a write off. It had landed in the open pizza box.

Jamie laughs at his face when he comes back into the bedroom. “Just take one of mine,” he says. “I know where you work and all.”

Tyler tries to hide how happy that makes him. There’s a level of comfort and intimacy there that makes this a whole lot less awkward. Jamie’s shirt is still big on him across the shoulders and chest and it hangs low on his neck where Jamie had stretched it out. Jamie ducks his head, cheeks painted rosy red, when he looks Tyler over.

 

There’s a slow handclap when they stumble into the green room – or the room where they all hang around in between shoots, anyway. Tyler raises his middle finger but Jamie just blushes again.

Brownie looks over, sees the shirt and gives him a thumbs up and a raised eyebrow behind Jamie’s back. Tyler’s not quite sure what he’s trying to convey so he just shrugs. He feels good in that loose limbed, good fuck, good sleep way and knows that whatever they film will probably reflect that.

Val looks harried when he comes in. “Thank fuck,” he mutters, accent heavy. Tyler knows it’s for his benefit because Val would normally just carry on in Russian. Tyler’s glad, though, because he doesn’t want to stay here and face Brownie’s interrogation. He waves and heads through to have his face powdered and tries to forget the way he’d felt that morning.

Jamie’s explaining everything to Dills when Tyler comes in, loose and ready. “It should give you everything you need.”

Dills taps his fingertips against his chin but Tyler knows he’s just fucking around. “Should be fine.”

“More than fine,” Tyler yells, sprawling out on the bed. The sheets looked the same as yesterday’s but he’s fairly sure they’ll have changed them. He’s still in Jamie’s boxer briefs, trying to preserve a little modesty and, to be honest, give Jamie something to peel him out of. He likes Jamie taking care of him, after all. 

It all goes to plan. Jamie blows him, sloppy and quick and Tyler comes over his face, painting Jamie’s smooth cheeks. Jamie kisses him after, covering Tyler in the mess as well and they have to break to clean up and retouch makeup. That’s cool because it lets Tyler cool down again – he was already starting to get hard again. 

This time, as well, he finally gets round to riding Jamie. The stretch is just enough to make his breath catch in his chest for a moment before he relaxes around Jamie’s dick. It gets even better when Jamie folds his hands behind his head and gives Tyler a ‘go for it’ look. Tyler does. He’s not even sure who he’s putting on more of a show for – the cameras or Jamie. Whatever, it seems to be doing the trick as he rolls his hips, leaning back to put his hands on Jamie’s knees and bowing his body in a perfect arch. He tries tossing his head back but ends up having to watch the look of awe on Jamie’s face instead. It makes him lean forward a hell of a lot sooner than he should to kiss Jamie until his hands seemed to move of their own volition, stroking up and down Tyler’s back, grabbing at his ass and holding him in place.

Tyler knows enough now to tap out when he’s getting close to the edge. They use the pauses to resettle themselves into other positions, Dills’ soft instructions from behind the camera. Tyler’s unsettled by that. He’s used to joking and laughing, being ordered about in a tone that bore an uncanny resemblance to his high school’s hockey coach. But, for some reason, there was this urgency in the air that was usually lacking, this atmosphere that made Tyler pull Jamie into kisses whenever he thought he could get away with it. 

He even stops thinking towards the end, letting Jamie fuck him on his back, hands playing with his nipples, stroking up and down his tattoos. Jamie’s the one running the show now, telling Tyler how good he looks, how well he’s taking it, how he can come now… And Tyler does, finally giving in, suddenly urgent. 

He lies there, after, grinning up at Jamie with what must be a stupid, totally unsexy expression. But he feels so damn good. Jamie wipes at the mess with his fingers, gathering some up to feed to Tyler, before knee walking up the bed to jerk off over Tyler’s face and neck. Tyler just opens wide to let him, glad no one is making him move.

Jamie kisses him after Dills calls out cut, before lying flat on his back and heaving out an enormous sigh. Tyler wasn’t up for much, his legs all rubbery, but he can roll over and he does it to plaster himself against Jamie’s side.

“Nailed it,” Tyler mutters into Jamie’s shoulder. He can hear Jamie’s heartbeat slowing back to normal.

“Nailed you,” Jamie said and Tyler poke him a little in the side in revenge. “Shower?”

“In a minute.” Tyler knows he has to get moving. They need to get the room reset for whoever’s coming in next. But he wants to lie here with Jamie and enjoy whatever afterglow he can seize. He’s aware that he’s cataloguing everything, trying to remember it and it takes him a minute to work out why. He’s realizes that this is all the time he has with Jamie and he doesn’t want it to end and he definitely doesn’t want to forget it. “Like being all marked up.”

“Course you would.” Jamie’s teasing, his voice light. “Probably like hickeys too.”

“Yeah,” Tyler tells him, rolling close again. “I look awesome with bruises.”

 

Tyler’s sad that there’s only one more thing to film – the, uh, before bit. It seems weird to film the whole getting-to-know-you segment after they’ve fucked extensively (normally just on camera, but he guesses there’s a first time for everything) but that’s the way Dills likes to work. Tyler doesn’t mind that it takes forever to set up the lighting – there’s something wrong with the electrics that has Val swearing in Russian a whole bunch. Tyler uses it to needle Jamie about his clothes.

They can’t take each other seriously. Tyler’s used to playing around in these – it’s better if he looks genuine – but Jamie keeps laughing at him laughing at Jamie and it becomes this whole loop. Dills starts off looking annoyed but by the end of it, he’s cracking up behind the camera as well.

“So. What are your hobbies?” Tyler reads carefully off the card, trying not to catch Jamie’s eye and start them laughing again. His cheeks are starting to hurt from all the grinning.

“I like music, ice hockey-“ Jamie’s starting to lose a little control. “Horse riding.” His voice is higher than it was at the beginning.

“Yeah, you like riding? What do you ride? Stallions?” Tyler manages to get it all out before he breaks into giggles. Jamie pushes his shoulder into Tyler and Tyler nearly falls off the sofa. He mock-glares at Jamie, trying to school his face into something severe. It doesn’t work. He’s aware that Jamie and he are probably looking at each other for way too long again.

“I hear you like to ride too.” Jamie looks proud of himself for getting the innuendo out. It’s not even a proper innuendo as much as an “endo”, a perfectly honest come-on. Tyler shoves against him again, playing the frat boy for all he’s worth.

Jamie leans forward, balances against Tyler and then they’re kissing. Tyler doesn’t usually end these interview scenes like this but he’s not going to object. Jamie’s warm and he tastes like coffee and gum and Tyler can’t help pressing closer. Jamie tries to shift them but misjudges the sofa – it’s really too small for two guys as big as they are – and they roll to the floor, out of sight of the camera. Jamie looks shocked under him and Tyler can’t help laughing again.

“I’m alright!” He raises a hand to wave, hoping the camera catches it. This is going to probably join his unfortunate premature orgasm from earlier on some kind of blooper reel. Tyler doesn’t worry because it’s not like he’s got a serious reputation or anything. Everyone knows he’s a dork.

Jamie smooths his hands over Tyler’s back, holding him close, before pushing at Tyler’s shoulders. “You’re heavy, dude.”

Tyler kneels up, grinning down, his entire focus on Jamie. He’s struck by the thought this might be the last time he ever sees him and he doesn’t want it to end. Whatever ‘it’ is. Jamie hauls him down again, pulling him into another kiss. It’s like Jamie’s adopted his confident porn persona all over again.

“I didn’t say you could go anywhere.” Jamie grins as Tyler comes in for another kiss. He hears Dills moving around – probably grabbing a handheld to get some footage of them making out on the floor. Tyler focuses on the press of their bodies, the way his dick is desperately trying to get hard for yet another go around. Jamie’s hands are soft, gentle, even as they span almost the entire width of his waist and hold Tyler close again.

Tyler wishes, fierce and sudden, that he’d met Jamie in normal life, that this wasn’t on film for the edification and titillation of anonymous internet viewers. Then he’d perhaps be able to do this for real. It’s sad and exhausting and so unlike Tyler’s usual approach to his part-time job. He hides his face in Jamie’s neck, scared of what his face might show. Jamie runs his hands up and down Tyler’s back again.

“That’s a wrap, guys,” Dills tells them, and Tyler has no excuse to stay there anymore.

 

A few months pass and Tyler tries to dismiss his sudden drought as being off his game. He’s definitely not pining, no matter what his mother says with sympathetic eyes.

 

The band’s good – they’ve played this bar a couple of times before and obviously the usual crowd enjoyed the blend of pop and rock that they seem to end up playing no matter what they try. Tyler’s content to blend into the background a bit towards the end of the set, tiredness setting in. He’d been all guitar stylings and dance moves earlier on but the end of the set always wound down nicely, calming the crowd before their big finish.

They were only opening tonight, which Tyler was also glad about. He’d not been sleeping very well of late and he’s looking forward to the beer (maybe even the shots) that he’ll be able to sink after their set finishes. Maybe the alcohol will finally let him drift off, rather than waking at three in the morning to catch up on whatever his DVR has recorded. He’s idly looking over the crowd as Freddie breaks into song, solo spotlight casting the rest of the band in shadow. It’s without the bright lights shining in his eyes that Tyler finally sees him.

Jamie’s propped up on a stool near the bar. His hair is shorter now, no longer falling into his eyes, but the breadth of his shoulders make Tyler’s breath catch. Tyler misses his cue, fumbles through the rest of the song, unable to believe what he’s seeing, half sure that it’s all just a figment of his imagination.

During the bridge, Freddie wanders over, leans away from the microphone. “What the fuck?”

“Jamie.” Tyler nods towards the bar. His throat closes up as Freddie looks over and grins wickedly.

The song winds down to a roar of applause. Now he knows where to look, Tyler can see Jamie clapping loudly and enthusiastically and it makes something swirl in his belly again – pleasure that Jamie likes what they’re about, likes what Tyler does with the best part of himself and a few nerves (more than a few) about what’s going to happen next.

Freddie swaggers up to the mic. “This one’s for The Stallion,” he roars, launching into their final, rabble-rousing number. Tyler plays along automatically, forcing down the overwhelming nerves. He’d been drunk when he’d told Freddie all about that.

Jamie’s still smiling when Tyler gets the courage up to glance his way again and, then, when they’re done and clearing off the stage, Jamie is there, close and big and solid as ever. “Hi.”

Tyler’s cheeks hurt from how hard he’s grinning. “Hi.”

“You guys are great. Really great.” Jamie rubs his hands over his t-shirt, smoothing it into place and Tyler realizes he’s just as nervous as Tyler feels. 

“You’re great,” Tyler blurts out. “I mean. It’s great to see you.” He tries to shrug but from Jamie’s answering grin he knows Jamie has got his unintended meaning. They stand there, drinking each other in. The rest of the world doesn’t exist right then. 

Freddie shoves his hand around, introducing himself, the rest of the band, getting Tyler moving to get their shit offstage and into the back of the van. Jamie pitches in, muscles rippling under his t-shirt as he effortlessly lifts the heavy amps. Tyler’s a little ashamed that he’s hard just watching.

Jamie and he end up in a booth in the back bar. There’s still music floating through from the band next door, but they can hear each other without screaming. Tyler’s hands are shaking a little as he wraps them around his beer.

“I bribed Val,” Jamie tells him. Their legs are pressed together under the table. “He wouldn’t give me your number but he said you might be here.”

“Val’s a good guy.” Tyler drinks. It’s hard to swallow. “So, good to see you. You going to be here long?”

“That-“ Jamie coughs, takes a drink. “That depends on you.”

“Me?” Tyler looks him up and down, but Jamie is as inscrutable as he always was. 

Jamie puts his bottle down and squares his shoulders, spreading his hands wide on the table between them. “I’ve been offered a transfer. To here. And when I heard about it, all I could think about was that you’d be here too.” Jamie sucks in a breath. “And it seemed like we hit it off.”

Tyler stares, open-mouthed. It’s possible the most he’s heard Jamie say all together. Then it sinks it. “Fuck, yeah,” Tyler breathes out, when he realizes he’s left Jamie sitting there for far too long. “You want to get started now?”

“Started?”

Tyler shoves his half-finished beer to the middle of the table. “Hi, I’m Tyler. I play in a band and sometimes do porn.”

Jamie stares at him, then he seems to get what Tyler’s doing. “Jamie. I’m in sales and I also sometimes do porn.”

“Well, that’s the story to tell the grandparents and grandchildren out of the way…” Tyler stands up and offers his hand. “Now we have to get to a bed.”

Jamie lets Tyler pull him out of the booth. “Still working on your stamina?”

“Fuck you,” Tyler shoots back, almost absently. He’s trying to catch Freddie’s attention so he can say he’s heading off. Then he thinks about it. “Actually, you should fuck me. Lots. That’s got to help.”

Jamie pulls him close, into a kiss. “I thought I’d buy you dinner, first.”

“You already did that. You got me pizza.” Tyler smiles into the kiss, suddenly feeling invincible. There’s absolutely nothing that could go wrong for him right now. “Plus I really, really want to get laid.”

Jamie looks him up and down, running his hands over Tyler’s sides, like he’s checking Tyler is still there. “We could get delivery later, right?”

 

_…Later_

“Whoops.” Tyler’s covered in his own come, again, and Jamie’s barely sunk home. He’s holding himself above Tyler, looking wild around the eyes. He hauls Jamie down to kiss him, wet and messy. “It’s better after I’ve come anyway.”


End file.
